


"Much to his annoyance, a thought popped into his mind."

by notjustmom



Series: Towel Day 2018 [15]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Douglas Adams, M/M, Towel Day 2018, post-Return
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 18:05:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14878671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: a continuation of the 'normality' verse...





	1. Chapter 1

Sherlock surfaced slowly. Voices. Not in his head. John? John and Mrs. Hudson. Whispers. He was home. Baker Street. How. Don't think. Damn. That constitutes a thought doesn't it? And there's another. He ran his goodish, not so baddish hand through his hair and tried not to have another. Just breathe. Breathing isn't quite so boring anymore. He opened his eyes to find himself in his room, exactly as he had left it, as John had promised. A museum to his arrogance, his thoughtless acts, his frailties. If John had - if he had been the one to be left behind, could he have stayed in such a way, could he have believed that life was worth - stop. Just stop fucking thinking. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe, but a cough took over. God, why did it have to hurt so much just to breathe?

And then John was at his side. He hadn't heard him climb into bed next to him. He wondered if his hearing had been damaged somehow. His senses were worn out. He just wanted everything to stop. John said nothing, did nothing but take him gently into his arms, mindful of the bumps and bruises, the wounds that were slowly becoming scars that would always remind him, them of - stopstopstopstop.

"Breathe, just breathe. Nothing to do today. Lestrade and Donovan got the guy a couple of hours ago." John kissed the still mangled mass of curls, and whispered, "think you would be up for a haircut today? I think we might need to borrow a hedge trimmer from Mrs. Hudson, but I think it's doable -"

Sherlock chuckled into John's chest and felt himself nod. "Can we just -"

John kissed his hair once more and held him a bit tighter. "Just breathe, Sherlock. I've nowhere else to be, except right here with you."

He pressed a kiss against John's chest and mumbled hoarsely, "I do love you, John Watson. So very much."

He could feel John grin into his hair, then strong, gentle fingers began drawing little circles down his spine, allowing him to drift off to sleep again, without another thought.


	2. Chapter 2

John stood by the doorway of Sherlock's room and sipped his tea, wondering how it was possible that he could even taste it. But he could. It tasted the same as it did yesterday and the day before that. It should taste different somehow, just because he was back. But - he sighed as he felt the vibration of his phone in his pocket and turned away from the room.

"Yeah? Good, that's good. Yeah, he's sleeping. When he wakes up I'll tell him. Give him a couple of days, yeah? No. Yes. Yes, it is, a bit strange. He's - he's still him, but - yeah, different. Sure. Ta." He slipped the phone back in his pocket and jumped as the flat door opened. "Mrs. Hudson? You weren't due back until tomor- Mycroft. Damn it."

"It's true, then?"

"Yes. He's back. He's sleeping for now."

"John."

He shook his head. "I can't think about it right now, Mrs. H. Don't make me think about it -"

"No. I'll be downstairs making soup, if you need anything." She walked over to him and touched his face gently. "I'm so glad he's back, John. So very glad."

"Me too, Mrs. H, me too."

She nodded and kissed his cheek, then left the flat, closing and locking the door behind her. John closed his eyes, then heard a rattling cough from the bedroom. He's home. He's actually here. He moved silently into the bedroom and pulled Sherlock into his arms, and breathed in the scent of his shampoo. "Breathe, just breathe. Nothing to do today. Lestrade and Donovan got the guy a couple of hours ago." He kissed the tangled mass of curls and felt him relax into him. "Think you would be up for a haircut today? I think we might need to borrow a hedge trimmer from Mrs. Hudson, but I think it's doable -" A soft rumble of a chuckle made him catch his breath and he pulled him closer.

"Can we just -"

"Just breathe, Sherlock..."

"I do love you, John Watson. So very much."

Me too, love, me too. His fingers traveled down Sherlock's spine of their own volition, and he felt Sherlock melt into him, drifting off to sleep again, and he wondered how he, how they had existed before without this, and then he gave up wondering, and closed his eyes, finally allowing himself to tumble into a dreamless rest.


End file.
